


Not Easily Forgotten

by dixophilian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 19:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2633318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixophilian/pseuds/dixophilian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s something immediately recognizable about the Inquisitor. It’s not her features; not the imposing height, the silhouette of her horns, or the sharpness of her eyes. No, it’s something about Adaar’s behavior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Easily Forgotten

There’s something immediately recognizable about the Inquisitor. It’s not her features; not the imposing height, the silhouette of her horns, or the sharpness of her eyes. No, it’s something about Adaar’s behavior.

The Qunari’s each step is silent, each turn around a corner cautious. Her eyes never stop searching, constantly looking for the slightest hint of trouble. Josephine knows from research that the Inquisitor was a mercenary with a history rumored to be varied for her sheer adaptability and as such, her mannerisms were surely honed from years of necessity. But even then, The Iron Bull and his Chargers do not exhibit the same degree of what Josephine can only call paranoia.

Josephine speaks with the Inquisitor of her past, trying and failing to discern the reason behind the strong sense of familiarity and comfort she feels when in Adaar’s presence. The woman entertains Josephine’s probing questions, but offers little in the way of detail, yielding only vague summaries of her escapades before the conclave.

It’s not until two months later, that she remembers. She’s traveling with the Inquisitor and a handful of others. They had stopped at a glade, everyone in need of rest and food. Bull and Cullen have wandered off in search of firewood and Leliana and Sera tend to the horses. Dorian is setting up a pit for the fire, while Adaar riffles through the caravan for the food they’ve packed. Josephine is at her side, per the Inquisitor’s request, though she admittedly feels rather useless doing nothing.

When it happens, it happens quickly, the whistle of an arrow aimed to Josephine’s jugular stopped abruptly by a groan of pain.

"Into the caravan, hurry." An arrow is embedded in Adaar’s chest and Josephine wants to stay, wants to help, but she knows she can’t. She stumbles to safety while shouts fill the forest. She can hear Sera shouting, an aggravated thing cursing Bull and Cullen for their absence. She hears Qunlat and her… parents? The memory rushes forward.

.

She was with her parents in the Free Marches for her first diplomatic meeting in Starkhaven. She was 19 and eager to begin her career. They were traveling with a hired guard of Tal-Vashoth; “Qunari who rejected the Qun,” her father had explained. They were mercenaries, better suited for little else. There was one amongst them, younger than the rest—and as she would later find out, even younger than herself—but respected all the same. And more importantly, a mage of exceptional power.

They had stopped to set up camp and Josephine had exited the carriage to stretch her legs, cramped from the long hours of sitting. All around her, the Qunari— _no, Tal-Vashoth_ , she reminded herself—were hustling about with purpose. The young mage set the fire with an upturn of her hand, quick and easy and Josephine wanted to bombard her with a hundred questions. But then the girl startled before rushing to Josephine with incredible speed, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her away. A second later and the would-be assassin was clearly visible, their blade jutting from the mage’s back.

"Quick Lady Montilyet, to your family." And Josephine ran to the carriage, warning her mother and father with a desperate cry for help.

.

Josephine finds Adaar later that night, everyone having set camp at the glade to recover from the ambush. Adaar is near the fire, wound clean and chest bandaged. Josephine sits beside her and immediately the inquisitor drapes fur over her shoulders. _Always putting me first_ , she thinks.

"You saved me," Josephine says, and the Inquisitor only hums an acknowledgement. "Again." That catches Adaar’s attention. The Inquisitor looks to her with a small smile, pleased.

"So you do remember."

"You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?" Adaar chuckles, a deep rumbling noise.

"I did. You’re not easily forgotten, Lady Montilyet." Josephine frowns in disapproval, but leans against Adaar despite it, taking comfort in the strength of the woman at her side and more warmth from her than even the fire before them.

"It took you suffering an arrow for me to remember."

"I was pretty short then,” Josephine smiles at the justification, Adaar, even young, was already a head taller than her father, “and my horns were asymmetrical.”

Josephine may not have consciously remembered Adaar, but she’s forever thankful that something in her did, that somehow she recognized the girl who saved her life all those years ago and continued to do so until she returned safely to Antiva. And she’s glad that this very person heads the Inquisition.


End file.
